picture it & write: Blind Sight Edition; We’ll See About This!

 

 

Tatiana meandered across the grand hall. Everyone was wearing their most expensive and dazzling gowns and suits. The chandeliers twinkled, casting a galaxy of stars across the room. The glasses of champagne sparkled. The food glistened. Smiles shimmered from all corners. This was the event to attend. The great charity ball for Aniela’s orphanage, Phoenix, had started.

Tatiana plucked a ripe grape from the fruit platter and let it drop upon her tongue. The supple skin burst and a flood of juice delighted her tastebuds. And yet, Tatiana found the taste hard to savour. Something else had caught her dark eyes. The innocent and ‘angelic’ Aniela was wearing something that did not belong to her. Tatiana’s fingers clenched into a fist. Her fingernails dug painfully into her skin. The tiara that ought to be Tatiana’s maliciously glimmered from Aniela’s golden head. Tatiana spat the corpse of the grape onto the floor.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

 

__picture it & write: Blind Sight Edition

by Ermilia

Pain That Does

image source: google.com/images

Pain that does
in a heart remain

Can only serve
to rage sustain

Life from us
it does drain 

If  we harbor
oceans of disdain

And by that
what do we gain

When from it
we don’t refrain? 

What a heart
can not contain 

If choked down
drives one insane

But the remedy 
is very plain

No long instructions
to ever explain

As the clouds
release their rain

Setting it free
makes whole again!

Teresa Marie  1/10/12  ©

The Fire Of Rage – picture it & write

The embers danced along my fingertips. What was happening to me? Something stirred in the hall. I clasped my hands together and hid them between my thighs. The wooden floorboards creaked in agony underneath the weight of my step father. I scrambled into the corner of my room, I tightened the frayed blanket around myself, only my eyes peeped out. The slither of light illuminating the bottom of the door was smothered. The beads of sweat trickled down the curve of my nose. My thighs burned. The pain intensified with each second. Rage flowed through my veins like molten lava. The door opened. My step father’s insidious, glittering eyes could be spotted. Unable to restrain myself or the force within me, I stood. My hands reached out and hate flickered behind my eyes. The flames engulfed him, the house, and me.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

I had heard stories, fiction I always thought, about instantaneous combustion, you know, those people who just burst into flames without being around anything that was on fire.  I didn’t believe in it though. 

There was also that book I read a few years back that was written by Stephen King, Firestarter.   Last year I saw a movie called Hellboy that had a girl in it there would ignite into flames when enraged and not be consumed by them.  Yet, that was all what I would call science fiction, until now.  But what had I just done and how did I control it so that it didn’t happen again!

As I ran away from the burning house, for the first time since it happened last April, I was glad that my mother had passed on so that she didn’t have to see this, deal with what was taking hold of her baby girl.  I heard sirens echoing behind me as I moved further through the woods behind our house.  Good thing that I took all those years of drama class, I was gonna have to put on the performance of my life later on when I pretended to just be getting home.

To have to feign distress over the death of that monster I called my step-father would need a command performance.  Oh how I hated him!!  Even before mother had passed on, I hated him for what he did to her mostly.  Sure, he was mean to me but left me alone for the most part, he beat her and raped her when she was unwilling to have sex with him.  He threatened to kill her almost every day if she ever tried to leave him again.

She had taken me and ran about 8 years ago and he found us, dragging her back kicking and screaming.  Then he beat her so bloody that I thought she would die for sure.  He refused to take her to the hospital, so it was left to me to care for her when he was gone to work at night.  She didn’t leave the house for 4 months, she couldn’t even walk for 2 of them.

“I got him back for you, mama!  I gave him a taste of hell before he even got there.  Now watch me get away with it here on earth and you ask Jesus to cover my sin up there, will ya?”

Teresa Marie  12/10/11

   

__picture it & write

by Ermilia

She Wants To Feed – Part Two

I stepped back away from her outstretched hand.  The voice in my head had struck a nervous chord with me.  “Don’t touch me please,” I said even though every fiber of my being wanted to step forward to receive it.  I want, no, I craved her touch.  My greatest desire at this moment was to be caressed, soothed, something – anything that would make me feel loved and wanted.

“Why not?” she somewhat snapped the word off with a bite.  I heard the meeting of her teeth together like the nipping of a dog.  It was done with such force that I jumped a little at the sound.

“Oh, no offense intended!  I just get like that sometimes,” came my weak reply though I doubt that it was very convincing.  I’m not a good liar to begin with and, secondly, I was sure that she knew the reality was quite the contrary.

There was something else that was beginning to unsettle me too and that was, as she had begun her approach, she seemed to become shrouded in shadow except for her eyes.  They were lit up and actually appeared to be glowing a neon green color, which only served to make the whole situation that much more eery. 

Also a steadily increasing rage seemed to emanate from her.  I was totally confused with this new persona that I was encountering.  Before this she had always seemed to be spiritual, holy, angelic almost and now she was frightening.  The voice in my head was speaking again, “She wants to feed on your hatred, forgive your step-mother.  It’s the only way to keep yourself safe!”

It was hard enough to fight the urge to succumb to the girl but forgive my step-mother after everything that she had said about me and done to me, never!  She had made my life a living hell for the last 3 years and tried to get me put away on the “funny farm” more than once, how could I forgive her for all that?  I’d rather rot in hell first.

 

Teresa Marie   11/13/11

A Dark Side

We all do possess
a much darker side
That is only waiting
 for the first tide

 When our anger is
way out of control
For in our rage
does it become whole

That it may then
overcome what is good
Making us say things
that we never should

And do the things
we normally don’t do
As the darker side
takes power over you

But the choice does
belong to us all
If on the tide
we rise or fall

For our anger we
must keep in check
This is what God
does from us expect

That the good side
may overcome the dark
We must hold fast
to our Divine spark!

Teresa Marie  10/16/11

The Face Of Rage

Dedicated to all those who feel stuck in an abusive lifestyle.  There is hope!  There is help!

Take the first step to a life free of abuse!!  I did and it’s marvelous.